


Until you understand

by Nehesemhotep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions, Mark of Cain, Post-Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, Really sad I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:26:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5724307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a reason Dean needed to leave that kitchen when Cas came in.</p>
<p>Post episode 10X14 "The Executioner's Song"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until you understand

       Dean growled and shoved Cas back on to the bed, the mark on his arm hot and irritated and excited all at the same time.  Cas’ eyes were wide and stunned as Dean pressed one hand on his shoulder to pin him.  Another hand shoved under the waistband of Cas’ pants, ripping the button off.   Dean grabbed Cas’ cock harshly.  Cas let out a shrill exhale that was mostly panic, and Dean felt him attempt to wrench from his grasp.  He found that his strength was able to outweigh Cas, just barely.  His fingers dug into the soft flesh, undoubtedly causing pain, causing Cas to curl inwards, before Dean forced his shoulder back down.

       The mark sang with delight as it realized Dean could take this angel, could attack the grace that hissed and retreated from the human’s touch.  It was that feeling of distaste that bordered on hate, that had made Dean leave that kitchen almost as soon as Cas entered.  

       It was the desire to force into submission, to attack the holiness the mark both derived from and sought to destroy, pulsing in Dean’s blood as the angel looked at him with concern, warily responding that the First Blade was somewhere safe.  Then the fool had knocked on his door, had followed him, had walked into the room like a goddamn offering.  

       The thrill singing in his veins, Dean released Cas’ soft cock and easily flipped Castiel on to his stomach, grinding against him. Cas panted harshly, twisting his body in an attempt to get out from under Dean.  Dean moaned at the way his dick became even harder against the jerky movements, against the sheer panic. There was precum on his denim, so close to the black slacks underneath him, so close to sullying the skin under them.  Cas let out a huff of frustration that ended almost in a whimper as he yanked his hands against the grip on his wrists.

       Dean let out a laugh that was almost a snarl, and pressed his weight more strongly down, as he bit down harshly on the exposed skin above Cas’ collar.  Cas yelled out than went completely still.  His breaths were harsh, but his body was rigid below Dean.  Without the struggle, the mark whined. It pulsed and ebbed. Dean paused.  He momentarily had some clarity, where the thoughts from his conscience were screaming, _no! this is Cas! stop! don’t hurt him. it’s **C**_ ** _as_** _. this is wrong!_ Dean felt the heat of Cas’ body through his white dress shirt. At some point he must have ripped off the trench coat and suit jacket. The tiny tremors finally registered in Dean’s mind.  Cas was trembling, silent and paralyzed under him, Dean’s groin still pressed mercilessly against his ass, grinding as the mark _wanted_.

       A cold trickled into his stomach. Cold against hot.  Dean groaned, in conflicted agony.  He wanted Cas. He _needed_ Cas.   _Cas. Cas..._ Cas.  Dean breathed.

       Slowly, Dean peeled his hands off Cas’ wrists, the dark bruising already healing and fading.  Dean may have momentarily gotten the upper hand, but Cas was still strong. Dean could feel the angel’s muscles coil beneath him, ready to throw him off. But instead of fueling his attack, Dean was hit with a wave of horror.  Before Cas could move, Dean had lifted his weight completely off and, stumbling, backed into the wall behind him hard.

       He gagged, and was minutely aware of Cas moving as he fell to his knees and threw up.  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” His voice was high with emotion as the guilt and disgust flooded him.  Tears pricked his eyes, even as Cas knelt down next to him, speaking with a soft, concerned voice,

       “Dean.”  

       Dean bared his teeth as he shoved Cas away,  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”  He clutched his head in his arms, “How can you even talk to me like,” he stopped, throat choked.

       “Like what?” Cas’ voice was even.

       “Like I’m even still worth saving. That I’m still the righteous man.  It’s fucked up.”  Cas was silent for a moment,

       “Yes, it is...fucked up.” The angel tested the word on his tongue, speaking with neither anger or pity. “I can’t not try to save you, Dean. You know I have to try.”

       Dean’s fingers clenched at his hair, the sharp pain a relief. “I almost raped you, Cas. Would have to, if you hadn’t stopped fighting-a fricking sissy angel, is what you are. A coward.” The words ripped viley, cruelly, from his tongue.  

       When Cas spoke again, his voice was harder, more bitter,  “You’re right. I am a coward. Maybe if I had told you how much I loved you, how much I needed you, you would have trusted me to help you kill Abaddon. To not take this curse upon yourself-”

       “Don’t you fucking dare say this was your fault,” Dean snapped.

       “I’m not,” Cas spat out, agony wrenching his features, “How much do I have to give, Dean?! To you! Before you stop trying to hurt me in every possible way!”  Cas’ eyes were wet with tears as he stood up, hands clenching and unclenching, “Even when you finally touch me, you do it the most...reprehensible way possible! I have never known pain like you somehow give me, and that includes years of torture and betrayal by own brothers and sisters.”

       Dean stood. The two men were both wracked with the emotional upheaval, shaking, faces wet, cheeks flushed and eyes pained. “Then why, Cas,” Dean’s voice was brittle, “Why don’t you stop giving. You don’t deserve this, Cas.”

        “I love you, Dean.”  This time Cas’ voice was weary, “And love isn’t something you have to earn or deserve. And I will keep saving you, until you understand. It is my love to give. And I give it to you.”   

       Then the room was empty and Cas’ footsteps echoed down the hallway. Dean waited until the sound disappeared, then shut the door, and at last he cried.  His head bowed down on his left arm, mirroring the hopelessness of his sobs.  The mark flushed pink, as if satisfied.


End file.
